Why Unity Matters to Me as an Arkansan and an American

My grandfather had a simple way of seeing the world. He’d say, “You’re always doing one or the other—tearing people down, or building them up.”

I’ve carried that with me ever since. It applies to how we speak, how we treat each other, and how we lead. And the older I get, the more I see just how true it is.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately—especially in this moment we’re living through. We’re surrounded by headlines and social feeds that tell us we’re more divided than ever. And some days, it does feel that way.

But here’s what I’ve found in the conversations I’ve had across our part of Arkansas: most people aren’t interested in tearing each other down. They’re just looking for someone to listen, someone to work with, and a way forward they can believe in.

That gives me hope. Because I believe, with everything in me, that we are still capable of unity.

Not uniformity. Not forced agreement. But real unity—where we’re guided by shared principles and a deep respect for one another as fellow Arkansans and Americans.

Learning from Those Who Came Before Us

As I’ve reflected on this, I’ve found myself going back to the words of the Founding Fathers. Not because they were perfect—but because they had to wrestle with the same tension we do now: how to build something that could last, even with differences and disagreements baked into the foundation.

George Washington, in his Farewell Address, warned us not to take unity for granted:

“The unity of government which constitutes you one people... is a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence.”

That’s not just poetic language—it’s a clear truth. Without unity, we lose the very thing that gives our nation strength.

Benjamin Franklin, in his usual plain style, put it even more bluntly:

“We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.”

That one hits hard. Because it’s still true. The more we isolate ourselves—politically, culturally, personally—the more fragile we become. And if we’re not careful, we’ll forget that the person on the other side of an issue is still our neighbor.

Disagreement Doesn’t Mean Disrespect

I’ve had conversations with people who see things differently than I do. Sometimes strongly so. And yet, almost every time, if we’re willing to listen—really listen—we walk away with a little more respect and a little more understanding.

That’s what Thomas Jefferson was getting at when he said:

“Every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle. We have called by different names brethren of the same principle.”

That perspective has helped me stay grounded. It reminds me that it’s not just possible, but necessary to hold strong convictions and still recognize the humanity and sincerity in someone else’s.

Our Differences Can Be a Strength—If We Let Them Be

The more I study our country’s beginnings, the more I realize it wasn’t built on sameness. It was built on balance. On freedom. On the idea that we can have different backgrounds, different perspectives, and still share a commitment to something greater than ourselves.

James Madison put it this way:

“The diversity in the faculties of men, from which the rights of property originate, is not less an insuperable obstacle to a uniformity of interests... The protection of these faculties is the first object of government.”

To me, that means our government—and our leaders—should protect the space for healthy differences while still calling us to common ground. That’s what civic life should look like. That’s the kind of politics I want to be part of.

Choosing to Build

So back to my grandfather’s words: You’re either tearing people down, or building them up.

That’s the choice we face every day. And I want to be someone who builds.

I want to help build bridges where others have burned them. Build trust where it’s been lost. Build a future we can be proud of—one grounded in mutual respect and shared purpose.

And I believe that’s still possible. We haven’t lost it. We just have to choose it—together.

I think often about the words Benjamin Franklin shared when asked what kind of government the founders had created. His reply was short, but weighty:

“A republic—if you can keep it.”

I believe we can keep it. But not by shouting louder or winning arguments. We’ll keep it by listening more, standing together, and remembering that even when we disagree, we belong to each other.

That’s the kind of unity I believe in. It’s the kind of leadership I strive for. And it’s the kind of Arkansas I know is possible.

With respect for all Arkansans,

Joshua Irby

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